


Fallen From Grace

by anamnesisapproaches



Category: Pokemon - Fandom
Genre: Contest Entry, Depression, Im not neglected I’m just dumping my negative emotions on the bean, Panic attack?, Writing contest entry, i just need to do it, im sorry faba, its not entirely mentioned, kindave, kindave not, vent fic???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 05:57:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20222947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anamnesisapproaches/pseuds/anamnesisapproaches
Summary: Faba is depressed cause he wanted to have a nice life.





	Fallen From Grace

**Author's Note:**

> This is a contest entry, the prompt being “Be the Very Best”
> 
> So I wrote about the character that tried to be like that but ended up being the opposite.

Faba hummed out a single phrase of a melody, squinting at the ceiling of the facility he worked at. The Aether Foundation had demoted him after the Rainbow Rocket fiasco, leaving the former Branch Chief in a rut. He felt completely down in the dumps, and was barely making enough money to even eat anymore. Minimum wage was his penalty, and he seemed to simply accept it, as he prefers this over a retailer job. 

Yet, the shame that was held over him still ached in his bones. It felt like there was a heavy weight around his neck, trying to pull him down and force him to break under the massive amount of pressure his heart was put under. His own breathing almost seemed labored as he struggled to stay fully aware of his surroundings. 

He just wanted to get in a better position in life. He desperately desired to have a more comfortable life. He greatly enjoyed getting attention, lest it be negative in any way. His mind flickered between the past memories he held close, and the present stimuli which did not show, as the air was still, and the walls were silent. 

As a small child, he wasn’t given much acknowledgment. He was highly ignored by both his mother and his father, and only truly paid attention to him in rare circumstances which he would outdo himself both physically and mentally. This lack of human contact was a breeding ground for some kind of mental issue, and it blossomed in the form of his confidence; or rather, his lack thereof. 

His great facade of sheer pride was put up so he may push himself into a state where he believed himself to be a wonderful, attractive, talented and handsome human being, when in reality, he knew that only a few of those were even partially true. He felt like a faker in a world he created, something that is out of place and shouldn’t be present. Something about the way the sun rose and fell ever so quickly made him feel as if his mind was circling around and around in an endless loop. A loop of doing the same chores over and over again, spinning on a carousel of pure, unadulterated agony. He wanted to throw up from the dread which build up inside of him… But he couldn’t manage to bring such blessings to himself. He didn’t even feel worthy of it. 

He knew that he was joining evil people during the events of Rainbow Rocket, but he truly did believe that they would help him move up in the world. He wanted to finally be in control of his wild life, no longer directed to do things by Lusamine, but instead equal with the boss of his own team. Equal and respected, given food and water and a good place to live, along with people who won’t ignore him. After all, the two bickering leaders were very much interested in his research, finding it to be fascinating. 

Faba couldn’t take the lack of oxygen. He felt as if his chest was tightening up. The scientist briskly got up and began to pace fervently, trying to ease his nerves by walking in circles, just like what his mind was doing, spinning like a horrid top, trying to defend against the hatred others gave. 

Faba so desperately wanted to believe that he was charming. He truly did. But whenever people looked at him, they gave a bitter look with a vile sneer, before scoffing and turning their backs on him. Whenever people looked at him, fear invaded their eyes, as if they expected him to snap at them for anything and everything. Faba has used to be like that, but was only as such due to the endless stress he was under. 

He needed to stay up and research, for Lusamine needed her data on the Ultra Beasts. If he did not keep up with the new info, he feared to lose the one job he felt that he was good at. He had feared, at the time, that if he fell back even one step, he would be kicked into the streets and left for the feral Houndooms. It didn’t matter in the end, of course, as he was demoted, but now he knew that if he messed up once more, he would be truly left for dead. Did he mean it literally? Perhaps. Or perhaps not. He did not know, as his mind now felt fuzzy, and his heart forgot to beat on occasion. He almost couldn’t move after some time, slowing to a stop by the wall. 

“I just wanted to become better.” Faba hissed viciously to himself, clawing at his weak, fragile arms. The Scientist rammed his head against the wall, making him see stars upon the contact. Sliding down the decorative sheet metal, he weeped fearfully, no longer restricting his mind to the fears they expressed. 

He remembered Lillie’s face when she realized he had betrayed her mother’s foundation. Even after what Lusamine had done, freezing Pokémon into true stasis, trying to supposedly preserve their beauty…. Lillie was still shocked that Faba had dared to go against her. He had known about her quirks for a long time, and when he found the opportunity to escape the woman’s grasp, he took it without hesitation. He felt like it would have saved him if everything went according to plan. He just wanted to be better off. He wanted to be better. He wanted to be worthwhile. Worth admiration. He wanted to be the best scientist out there, so maybe he could prove it to his parents who had left him, that perhaps he was actually worth something more than attention. He wanted to prove he was worthy of praise and riches. 

His throat turned dry, and his vision stuttered. He felt even more broken, looking down at his damp palms, trying to make out what he was thinking. His mind fogged up, and eyes turned puffy and red from the sheer amount of tears he shed. Faba felt broken, and scared. He was a cornered Rattata being chased by a vile Meowth. He knew this would be the end. He would never be better. Never be the best. He would faint, and let the whole world pass by him. He wanted to give up. For he would never succeed after such a hard fall. 

But, in the end, he was more stubborn than that. He knew, subconsciously, that he could make a comeback. He could climb back up from the bottom of the pit he made for himself. He just has to start below square one, and eventually he can return to glory. 

And stage one, of all things, is letting himself cry.


End file.
